Why hadn’t it occurred to him to drink the water in the sink after he’d washed. Why hadn’t he thought of drinking the bathtub full of water after he was through bathing. Why not drink the shower water?
Why wash in the first place?
Why waste all that precious water just to clean the stupid, worthless body.
And to use water to wash clothes! Oh! And cars! Oh my God, and dogs! He shudders to think of it. How can people be so incredibly ignorant?
He remembers Leo saying that she hated water. She drank milk and coffee and tea and whiskey but she wouldn’t drink water. She hated water. It might have been hilarious if it weren’t so disgusting, so revolting, so defiling to his mind. Hate water! Oh my God forgive her for she knows not what she …
He remembers times he has spit.
Good God all the times he had gathered together precious saliva into his mouth and spit it out into a toilet, into a sink, into a street. How could he do it? Why not take out money and throw it away? Why not cut off arms and throw them away, useless hulks. But, oh no, never that.
Oh my God, how stupid he was. How stupid everybody was. Actually spitting out precious saliva. Spitting out valuable water.
He thinks he is shaking his head in astonishment. It is unbelievable. If he didn’t know it was actually so, if he hadn’t done it himself, he would scoff and say he was crazy, that such things couldn’t possibly happen.
He remembers times he urinated.
He thinks for ten whole minutes that the far wall of the room has turned into a solid sheet of falling water.
He hears it roar. It sounds like an elevated train. It is white and thundering and smoking mists rise from the bottom.
His is back at the World’s Fair, seeing Victoria Falls with his mother. Mother, let’s go, this makes me thirsty. By George if I haven’t got Victoria Falls in my own room. He thinks that and believes it and chuckles and thinks he’ll get up and get a drink.
* * * *
He tries to tear off his clothes.
* * * *
He scratches his head and scalp.
He rakes his trembling fingers over his forehead, digging in the nails. He plunges his long dirty nails into his bushy, grassy hair and scrapes at the dandruff-thick scalp. He runs his hand back and forth wildly, trying to get inside. His brain itches. He scratches away and the dandruff and the flesh.
Blood dribbles over his head. He doesn’t feel it. He scratches up his face and neck, his dry brittle nails rake back and forth, reddening the skin, drawing little drops of dark and sluggish blood.
He looks at his wrist and sees tooth marks.
Oh my God, he worries, there must be a huge rat loose in the room. I’d better tell the landlord.
His muscles tighten in a great convulsive cramp.
His teeth spread apart and hot, putrid breath gushes out from his dry mouth.
His body shudders as the muscles draw together, pulling their strands into rock-hard bunches.
A million invisible mice swarm over his body, nibbling with hot, razor teeth.
A gurgling protest vibrates his vocal chords. His wooden tongue flops once and clanks on his teeth. An edge of membrane tears and hot air rushes in over the raw flesh. A drop of serum swells up into form, then drips like wax onto his unfeeling tongue and threads its way lethargically down his throat.
He forgets which arm it is he can move. He keeps trying to move his left arm.
He is divided into a hundred, opposing factions. His is a feudal kingdom in flesh, no parts cooperating. He forgets the functions of his body. He forgets how it is fit together. He forgets how it works and what it looks like.
The muscles unfold, little by little. They let his body sag limply again.
7
Vacuous stars. Breath like dying steam.
That dog barking? Why here? Get out dog Go home won’t wash you clean Feet cold hand cold Hot Hot ice John I’m cold Carbon dioxide Die oxhide All alone Alone here Dying Blow horn Fire burn and I’m dry rattle me …
The ceiling is eleven sheets of paste-board dirty plastered-Bastard Plastered Mastered Mustard On bottom pickles on top Drink anything Lynn Wish I was drowning Such a nice way to Water sir?
Drip drop Raining in desert Missing Falling all around dried up Send out the dogs Max Trent snug tug buggy nuggy he say doggie legs or Long along alone isn’t the ocean beautiful in the rain I wonder when we’ll get to England …
Something there’s something here I it’s there I Feel it It is a body! God a body I see a body I taw a puddy cat Meow Old lady feed your cat Meow Old lady feed your cat Meow …
Lazy Mary will you get up, will you get up Will you meant to get a haircut sir but a nickel short What am I to do Let’s see now I … I wish Oh God Ha ha ha Nickel short Shickel nort Wear a hat Nobody know I’ll give a million drops million dollars for a drip drop water …
Water, water, water, water, water, water … what? Water Oh jesus lover of my soul Wait a minute Leo! Head splitting Someone God God oh God don’t spit there Spit her, here!
Fool!
Horror. Unbelieving horror.
See a wall it’s a room Listen to that rain would you Hitting window on roof leaking down Wow must be twenty nine inches twenty Nine dollars you bastard! I’m glad your shop is failing I’ll never come in anymore Mother I … Mother I’m thirsty can I ha ha May I have a glass of water?
Planning face. Lips pursed.
Let’s see take a shower shave shine shit spit shampoo put on clean khakis God glad it’s Sunday hell with you Foley I’m not cleaning my gun today Go screw yourself you think you were in love with the fucking gun Yeah I know the rifle I do so First the trigger lock the trigger guard unlocks then you take off the stock then you Come on Ma! What the hell do you think I asked for water for Golly listen to it pour I hope the tent holds up John hell with that I’m crapping out the front door who could find that trench in this fucking rain …
Smiling. Endlessly.
There’s a man see? He pulls a string and the stars go on Just like a lamp in big black bedroom Gee Sally I wish it could last forever Like we were in our own house I don’t mind it raining, do you Oh my glass is empty give me my helmet sergeant Ogod Oh darling darling darling I love you so much We’ll go away together I have three hundred and nine dollars minus my watch and we’ll go away I’m sorry I shouldn’t have gone walking my fault she collapses Shit it is It is! It is! I killed her, I killed her, I killed her Got to punish myself I’ll cut off my head I’ll cut off Lynn’s head I’ll
Ava Gardner’s island that’s it! Where the treasure is Dig it up Take a lot of water though Hot there you know what it is without water Like being with Feel like a high school kid again Don’t care if you have a
Water Water Water La da de dum dum Water Boy-yoy-y-yy Cool cool water I think it’s going to rain till the war’s over why does it rain in war Haah? I ever tell you that Alexander the Great had piles Ghengis Khan haha change mind don’t think I’ll rob the old man might pull a gun on me I’m all right this way better safe He might shoot me in the back and I might not be able to move and come on Lynn baby we’ll live on an island together I wonder if Mae West is a virgin …
Said I’m not getting up to go to Sunday School till I get that water God damn God damn don’t look so shocked no Oh don’t look so shocked I’m twenty-one what am I a kid What do I have to be ninety-seven I’m getting out of here Oh Leo your breasts are so big and white I’d like to drink from them I ohh pour me a drink pardner
Let’s see up is up and down is across and Listen there is nothing unhappier than unrealized potential, do you understand?
My face!
He is looking into the mirror fragment.
8
He held the piece of mirror against his wrist.
He knew it was a piece of mirror and he knew it was his wrist. If he held tight he knew both those things. He knew how to cut one with the other.
He drew the sharp edge across the flesh. It slit, it scraped. A tri
ckle of blood. He sawed weakly. A little more blood. He stared at it. His tongue faltered, fell again. He looked at the blood on his wrist. Something stirred. Something went back.
9
He stood in front of Lynn’s door and rang the bell. He had his suitcase with him. He didn’t know whether he was about to laugh or cry. That’s what happened sometimes now to him. He was in such an emotional state that all refinements had become lost, the dross of feeling loomed up as a parallel of the delicate. And, in moments of terror, he was likely to break into peals of idiotic laughter and, in moments of excess hilarity, he might find himself crying and suddenly sense a wave of depression breaking over him.
That’s how it was as he stood there in the August afternoon standing in the dimlit apartment house hall and waiting for Lynn to answer.
The door was flung open. He saw Marie’s flushed face looking at him expectantly.
“Hey, it’s Erick!” she cried, “Come on in, the water’s fine!”
He felt his stomach drop abruptly. He backed off a little, almost in fright. His voice sounded like a broken croak rather than a human voice.
“Lynn here?” he asked.
“Honey, we’re all here!” she exulted.
It seemed as if they were. Sounds of a cocktail party vaulted into his ears. Trilling woman laughter, the husky affected ha has of advertising executives.
Glancing worriedly over her shoulder, he saw the people standing around in affected groups, mostly men surrounding women like petals around a flower center. The air was filled with smoke and the sound of tinkling glass and tinkling voices.
Erick stood there weakly, wanting to cry out. There was no other place he could go. He had come for what comfort Lynn could give. For quiet words and a strong hand to guide him. He had found noisome gaiety and smoke and strangers.
Then Lynn came out of the kitchen with a tray of canapes. He looked startled, his temples contracted.
“Erick,” he said, concerned.
“Well come in, honey!” Marie gushed, “Don’t stand out thar in the snow!”
Lynn said, “Wait a minute” and moved quickly into the living room. He put the tray down on the coffee table and Erick stared sickly at him while he exchanged a few obvious banalities with a paunchy executive who was ensconced on the couch like a fat cherry sitting on the lurid top of a banana split.
Then Lynn turned away and his face sobered as he walked out again into hall.
Marie was asking him questions.
“I said, what’s the suitcase for, did your mistress throw you out?” she giggled. He smelled liquor on her breath. A button on her blouse was loose and he saw the dark lace of her net brassiere, a splash of erect white flesh.
He shook his head as though he took her question seriously.
“No,” he said. He felt himself turning inside out. He thought his stomach would leap into his chest and his heart would burst.
“Go in and seduce a 20,000 a year man,” Lynn said to Marie, taking her by the arm and steering.
Marie threw one posing hand behind her puffy coiffeure.
“Baby, I’m the one that can do it!” she bubbled, then flounced off and cried, “Max!” to a bald and startled bachelor and flung herself into his arms with a shriek of ersatz emotion. There were giggles and appreciative murmurs of “That Marie is a card”.
Erick saw some of the men and women looking at him. He lowered his eyes, his face coloring.
Lynn saw him still holding the suitcase tightly in his hand and he looked down at it.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
Erick started to answer and his voice broke and he started to turn away muttering, “I’ll get the hell out.”
Lynn grabbed the suitcase and slid it quickly into the hall closet and led Erick into kitchen. A chubby young woman was being kissed there by a young man. Erick saw their loins writhing together.
“The bedroom is available,” said Lynn as their lips slurped apart self-consciously. They laughed awkwardly, then picked up their drinks, hooked arms and began to move out of the room. The girl looked at Erick, the man looked at him. And, as they went out, he saw them shrug to each other as if to say—I don’t know, it must have come out of the faucet.
Lynn shoved the door and it whispered through its white arc and settled quietly into its frame.
“What is it, Erick?” he asked.
Erick sank down on a chair and sat mutely. He looked at Lynn and tried to tell him. He couldn’t, the words wouldn’t come. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. He lowered his head quickly and tried to hide them. He tried to speak again but his voice kept breaking. He twisted on the chair and looked around as if for escape. He ran a shaking hand over his hair.
Then he felt Lynn’s hand fall on his shoulder.
“What is it?” Lynn asked slowly and distinctly, “Erick?”
“My … m-mother,” he sobbed and almost started to cry.
Lynn was silent a moment. Then he asked, “When?”
“Before,” Erick said with a sob, “I … I was out w-w-walking. I went out walking. She was sick and she said Erick p-please s-stay with me. B-but like a jerk I … I went out a-anyway, anyway and I walked around and I guess I was g-g-going to kill myself I think. I walked up Broadway and then to … oh what’s the difference! I … I … she died while I was gone. She … she … she collapsed and …”
The words shook from his lips like water flung from dripping fingers.
“All right,” Lynn said, “Listen to …”
He was interrupted by Marie pushing through the doorway.
“Hank, I’m plumb outta liquor,” she said pensively, too cute, in pure indication that she expected Lynn to leap into the air, click his heels wildly and shout—Well then, I’ll just get you some right away, baby!
Lynn grabbed a bottle and shoved it into her arms. “Drink from the bottle,” he said, then turned her and pushed her out of the kitchen.
“Well!” she said, “I never!”
“You always,” Lynn answered and slid the lock in the door.
Erick sat there on the chair trying not to cry. He didn’t want to cry. But everything seemed to conspire to make it happen. The hope of finding a silent apartment there, a quiet evening of comforting talk, sleep.
Instead, he’d found strangers there having a party.
“I have to entertain these people, Erick,” Lynn said, seeming to guess, “I didn’t plan that your mother would die today.”
The words were so smoothly spoken that, at first, the impact didn’t strike Erick.
Then the words themselves rose up in power and sucked the breath out of him. He had never said in his own mind—my mother is dead. He fought the grief, he bowed beneath it, but he had never faced the issue squarely. He hadn’t seen her dead. He almost half believed that if he let the concept out of his mind completely and never admitted she was dead—something would intervene, a miracle would occur and …
Now Lynn had said the fatal words. She was dead now. And for a second, the idea—Lynn killed her!—struck at his grief crazed mind. He almost leaped up and grappled for Lynn’s throat.
He did look up suddenly and Lynn saw hate in his eyes.
“I see you haven’t faced it yet,” Lynn said quietly, “That’s always been your trouble Erick, you don’t face anything.”
Erick half stood. “I didn’t come here for lectures,” he snapped, “I’ll get out. I’ll get so far out no one will ever see me again.”
“Sit down,” Lynn said.
He sat, completely weak, feeling within himself the desperate need to hear some strong voice say—do this—and—do that. He felt rudderless, without any power of self motivation. He was lost, adrift in a sea of responsibilities and worries, without the ability to even raise the sail, without the slightest strength to chart a future course.
“Come on into the bedroom,” Lynn said, “You can take a nap.
Erick looked up worriedly, “How?” he said weakly.
“By foot,
” Lynn said.
“How … can I?” Erick asked, “Not …”
“Can’t you walk?”
“I … I can’t go by those … all those people.”
“Pretend they’re monkeys,” Lynn said, “They really are.”
“Then why do you do business with them!” he suddenly found himself asking irately as if the entire incident had fallen to that one point.
“Come on,” Lynn said.
“I refuse to stay in the same house with these—with these hypocrites and … and …”
“Whores,” Lynn said, “Come on Erick.”
Erick stood up and Lynn took his arm.
He felt waves of hot sickness gushing through him as they went through the door. What would he do if someone spoke to him. Could he answer? He might burst into tears in the very midst of them. The shocking thought of crying and showing his misery before those people he despised suddenly drilled long icicles of dispassion through him. He walked stiffly, face like rock. He didn’t look at any of them. He felt their eyes on him. He heard Lynn saying something about my friend, sick, happened to be in the neighborhood. Stop lying to them, his brain said, tell them the truth.
I have just murdered my mother.
“There’s someone in there,” Lynn said as he came up behind Erick standing at the bathroom door turning and re-turning the knob stupidly as if he didn’t believe it was locked.
“Hold it in, will ya!” Marie’s voice howled from the inside.
Erick turned away and stumbled into the bedroom. There was a fur coat on the big double bed.
“Who’s that?” Erick asked.
“Some idiot woman’s coat,” Lynn said. Erick heard a swishing sound in the dark as Lynn moved the coat off the bed.
“Sit down, “he said.
Erick moved back silently and sank down on the soft bed.
“Take off your shoes, Rick,” Lynn said gently.
He took them off, bending over, feeling tears flow from his eyes, sobbing awkwardly, his fingers fumbling blindly with the laces, knotting them helplessly.